The Rock Rats

CHAPTER 42

As they sped away from Ceres on Lubbock Lights, Fuchs familiarized himself with the crew that Nodon had recruited. Silent, blank-faced Asians, Mongols, descendents of Genghis Khan. They didn’t look particularly ferocious; they looked more like kids, students, fugitives from some high-tech training school. But they apparently knew their way around a fusion-powered spacecraft.

All the fusion ships were built along two or three basic designs, Fuchs knew. Lubbock Lights was a freighter, but now he had armed the vessel with three mining lasers taken from his own warehouse.

Once they were well under way, accelerating through the belt at a lunar one-sixth g, Fuchs called his crew into the galley. The seven of them crowded the little space, but they stood respectfully before him, their dark eyes showing no trace of emotion.

“You realize that we are outlaws now,” he began, without preamble. “Pirates. There is no turning back.”

Nodon spoke up. “We will follow you, sir. For us there is no other choice.”

Fuchs looked from one face to another. Young, all of them. Some with facial tattoos, all of them pierced here and their with plain metal adornments. Already embittered by the way the world had treated them. Nodon had given him their backgrounds. They had all come from poor families who struggled to send their children to university where they could learn how to become rich. All six of them had studied technical subjects, from computer design to electrical engineering to environmental sciences. All six of them had been told, upon graduation, that there were no jobs for them. The world was crumbling, their home cities were being abandoned because of drought and disastrous storms that flooded the parched valleys and washed away the farmlands instead of nourishing them. All six of their families became part of the huge, miserable, starving army of the homeless, wandering the stark, bitter land, reduced to begging or stealing or giving up to die on the roadside.

These are the statistics that I’ve read about, Fuchs realized. Ragged scarecrows who have lost their place in society, who have lost their families and their futures. The desperate ones.

He cleared his throat and resumed, “One day, I hope, we will be able to return to Earth as wealthy men and women. But that day may never come. We must live as best as we can, and accept whatever comes our way.”

Nodon said gravely, “That is what each of us has been doing, sir, for more than a year. Better to be here and fight for our lives than to be miserable beggars or prostitutes, kicked and beaten, dying slowly.”

Fuchs nodded. “Very well, then. We will take what we need, what we want. We will not allow others to enslave us.”

Brave words, he knew. As Nodon translated them to the crew, Fuchs wondered if he himself truly believed them. He wondered which of these blank-faced strangers would turn him in for a reward. He decided that he would have to protect his back at all times.

The Asians spoke among themselves in harsh whispers. Then Nodon said, “There is one problem, sir.”

“A problem?” Fuchs snapped. “What?”

“The name of this ship. It is not appropriate. It is not a fortunate name.”

Fuchs thought, It’s a downright silly name. Lubbock Lights. He had no idea who had named the ship or why.

“What do you propose?” he asked.

Nodon glanced at the others, then said, “That is not for us to say, sir. You are the captain; you must make the decision.”

Again, Fuchs looked from face to impassive face. Young as they were, they had learned to hide their feelings well. What’s going on behind their masks? he wondered. Is this a test? What do they expect from me? More than a name for this ship. They’re watching, judging, evaluating me. I’m supposed to be their leader; they want to see the quality of my leadership.

A name for the ship. An appropriate, fortunate name.

A single word escaped his lips. “Nautilus.”

They looked puzzled. At least I’ve broken their shell a little, Fuchs thought.

He explained, “The Nautilus was a submarine used by its captain and crew to destroy evil ships and wreak vengeance on wrongdoers.”

Nodon frowned a little, then translated to the others. There was a little jabbering back and forth, but after a few moments they were all bobbing their heads in agreement. A couple of them even smiled.

“Nautilus is a good name,” said Nodon.

Fuchs nodded. “Nautilus it will be, then.” He had no intention of telling them that the vessel was fictional, or how it—and its captain—came to their end.

Amanda woke up with a headache throbbing behind her eyes. She turned and saw that Lars was not in bed with her. And the wall-screen showed seven messages waiting. Strange that there was no sound from the phone. Lars must have muted it, she thought.

Sitting up in the bed, she saw that he was not in the one-room apartment. Her heart sank.

“Lars,” she called softly. There was no answer. He’s gone, she knew. He’s gone from me. For good, this time.

The first message on the list was from him. Barely able to speak the command, her voice trembled so badly, she told the computer to put it on the screen.

Lars was sitting at the desk in the warehouse, looking as grim as death. He wore an old turtleneck shirt, dead black, and shapeless baggy slacks. His eyes were unfathomable.

“Amanda, my dearest,” he said, “I must leave you. By the time you get this message I will be gone. There is no other way, none that I can see. Go to Selene, where Pancho can protect you. And no matter what you hear about me, remember that I love you. No matter what I have done or will do, I do it because I love you and I know that as long as you are near me your life is in danger. Good-bye, darling. I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again. Goodbye.”

Without realizing it, she told the computer to rerun his message. Then again. But by then she couldn’t see the screen for the tears that filled her eyes.